


a sunless sea

by SyntheticRevenge



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Devotion, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon, Requited Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SyntheticRevenge/pseuds/SyntheticRevenge
Summary: Sam never thinks about the ocean. Not really. It’s one thing to know something exists, and another to actually put time into considering it, and he just doesn’t. No flowers grow close to the ocean. No fruits or vegetables, just nasty, sharp dune grass.He doesn’t think about the ocean, and then he looks Frodo Baggins in the eyes for the first time, and suddenly he starts thinking about it a lot more.(Sam and Frodo, before, during, and after)
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Kudos: 13





	a sunless sea

**Author's Note:**

> I just rewatched the extended editions for the first time since I was like 14 and they hit a Lot different at 21, lemme tell you. I'm having the biggest spiral and this fell out of me.
> 
> CW: alcohol

Sam never thinks about the ocean. Not really. It’s one thing to know something exists, and another to actually put time into considering it, and he just doesn’t. No flowers grow close to the ocean. No fruits or vegetables, just nasty, sharp dune grass. 

He doesn’t think about the ocean, and then he looks Frodo Baggins in the eyes for the first time, and suddenly he starts thinking about it a lot more.

*

The thing about the ocean, Sam figures, is that no one  _ really _ knows what’s in it. Not even the elves, with everything they know, they can’t breathe underwater, they can’t go down there and build cities and wait and see. There’s  _ depths _ , is all, and--and it’s interesting to think about, sometimes, when he’s weeding at Bag End, doing the menial tasks that don’t matter so much and letting his mind wander, catching glimpses of Frodo and Bilbo and their endless parade of visitors from far corners of Middle Earth. 

There’s things no one on land is ever gonna know about what lives in the ocean. Sam thinks that’s sort of amazing, actually.

Sometimes, when Frodo thinks no one’s looking, he leaves the loud, warm, story-flooded rooms of his uncle’s house and wanders out into the garden. Stands there in the evening air and just looks out. Sam would give anything to know what he thinks about.

*

Frodo says Sam’s name so gentle. It sounds soft on his tongue, and fond. Like he’s always saying it with a smile. That’s just how he is, though. When Sam shows him how the flowers are just starting to bloom, he laughs in soft wonder and makes sounds like he really gets it,  _ truly _ , the way Sam does. 

_ They’re beautiful, Sam.  _ Like the finest pillow in the world after a hard day’s work.  _ Thank you for showing me _ . And he means it, Sam can tell he does. 

No one’s ever treated Sam’s name like it was fragile before. It’s--well, it  _ isn’t _ . It’s common. A syllable or two to throw away and not think twice about. His Gaffer spits it like a curse. Between Frodo’s eyes and that--that  _ Sam _ , it’s…

He’s really in trouble, maybe, he thinks.

*

Bilbo sits in the garden while Sam’s working and tells him stories and riddles and sometimes both in one. Dwarves and elves and dragons and broken creatures, and Sam listens intently, hanging on every word as he lines up his perfect flowerbeds. 

Frodo sits and listens too, sometimes, and he knows all the stories so well that he can recite Gollum’s riddles by heart, in an eerie, raspy voice. Bilbo seems to like the playacting, and it always gets him deeper into the story, though he says he doesn’t think the way Frodo plays Thorin Oakenshield is quite respectful enough.

Regardless, those are the best days Sam ever works, doing something he loves and listening to stories about adventures he’ll never get a chance to have, meeting Frodo’s uncharted-water eyes across the garden and trying not to laugh as Bilbo speaks at length about some odd, minute detail.

*

The first time Sam meets Gandalf, he’s starstruck. Bilbo’s stories echo through his mind, but here he is, the grey wizard himself, standing taller and prouder and warmer than every single one of them.

Sam figures Gandalf won’t spare him a second glance, why would he, but Frodo drags Gandalf out into the garden, with -- _ isn’t it beautiful out here, Gandalf, and it’s all because of Sam, Sam, come meet Gandalf  _ and Sam’s hands are covered in dirt and he’s blushing too hard to look Gandalf in his kind eyes.

_ It’s an honor, sir,  _ he says, and Gandalf laughs, and it sounds exactly how Sam always imagined it would.

_ I demand to shake the hand of any halfling talented enough to make Bag End this beautiful _ , he says, and Sam can’t form words.

_ My hands are dirty, sir, I-- _ he starts, but Gandalf cuts him off.

_ Shake my hand, Samwise Gamgee _ , he says, and Sam shakes his hand, and Frodo smiles brighter than the sun.

*

Merry and Pippin are nicer to Sam than they should be, considering that they’re near royalty and he’s just a gardener. He knows it’s just because of Frodo, because Frodo’s kind and probably told them they had to be nice to Sam. He wishes he could relax around them, but it’s nice to have friends regardless.

Merry drags them into all sorts of mischief and every time Sam has to step out, afraid of what the Gaffer would say, afraid of his sisters laughing at him, afraid that he’ll do something stupid and embarrassing and Frodo won’t ever speak to him again. He’s a coward and a fool.

The more he refuses, though, the more determined Merry gets, until finally he wears Sam down and they’re all too drunk and sneaking through Bag End looking for Bilbo’s magic ring, because Pippin wants to try it on. Frodo threw out a few whispered protests, but he’s the drunkest and also his heart wasn’t in it to begin with. He stays close to Sam, using him for support, laughing in his ear, his breath on Sam’s almost-numb face like the first breeze on a hot summer’s day.

They find swords and armor and tokens of Bilbo’s adventures scattered around all corners of the place, but not the ring, not until Frodo goes silent and a bit odd and walks unsteadily straight towards a desk, opening the top drawer and pulling out the ring like he knew it was there.

He holds it in his palm for a moment, then staggers forward and falls into Sam’s chest. They all dissolve laughing and put the ring back and the night goes on. Sam’s never been this close to Frodo before. Touching him makes every single nerve scream for more, and it’s all he can do not to blurt something like  _ d’you ever think about the ocean, Mr. Frodo? _

He keeps it in. He’s strong enough for that.

*

Bilbo disappears at his birthday and Sam goes looking for Frodo, to--to see if he’s alright, to--to  _ what _ , Samwise Gamgee, to hold him and kiss the tears off his cheeks and tell him it’ll be okay? What a fool he is, but he’s drunk and aching from wanting to dance with Frodo all night and never managing it, so he can’t stop himself heading up the hill to Bag End.

As soon as he gets there, he hears raised voices from inside, and ducks into the garden, not trying to overhear, just--just wanting to wait until he can talk to Frodo. He idly starts weeding, even though there isn’t much to weed, because he doesn’t know what else to do.

The Ring, and a great evil, and they’re not safe, and--and Gandalf pulls him through the window and he panics because he doesn’t want to lose either of their respect, and then Gandalf tells him he has to go with Frodo, like it’s a punishment. Like he’d want to stay in a Shire that Frodo Baggins didn’t live in.

*

The elves in the woods are the most beautiful things Sam’s ever seen in his life. Nature in its purest, most powerful form, glowing like dawn--

They’re the most beautiful things Sam’s ever seen until he spares Frodo a quick glance to see his reaction and sees his genuine, unfiltered awe, and his heart floods near to bursting.

*

Frodo, dazed and delirious from the Witch King’s blade, tries to give the Ring away. He near-begs Strider to take it, with a wet-lipped  _ before it’s too late _ that freezes Sam’s guts. 

_ He’s just hallucinating _ , Strider tells Sam and Merry and Pippin, with firm eye contact and hands braced on their shoulders, when he catches them grimly watching.  _ He’s badly hurt, but he’s likely to make it. _

Sam goes over to Frodo and takes his hand and asks him, softly,  _ why do you want to give the Ring to Strider? _

Frodo blinks, confusedly, closes his hand absently around the Ring, resting over his heart, and says  _ It’s  _ my _ burden to bear, Sam.  _ Mine _. I would never give it to anyone else. _

His eyes are the color of the pond in Hobbiton that freezes over the few times it gets cold enough. Sam hopes someone manages to break the ice soon before he drowns.

*

Rivendell’s the sort of place Sam’d feel lucky to dream about. It’s like a dream, wandering around this place the elves built and loved and left behind. The ghosts of a great civilization. 

He spends a lot of time aimlessly exploring, since the conversation he had with Gandalf that mostly consisted of Gandalf telling him  _ nature takes time to heal, Samwise Gamgee. you wouldn’t sit and wait for a tree to grow a lost limb back _ that clearly meant  _ stop sitting around and waiting for Frodo to recover _ .

So he stopped. He looks out over the city and listens to the leaves blow through the vacant halls he always begged for stories about and hopes very dearly that Frodo wakes up.

*

_ I will take it _ , Frodo says, cutting across the noise, and Sam’s heart falls miles away from his body, stunned by the impact of the words. 

Frodo Baggins was always the protagonist of Sam’s story, but for him to volunteer to save the world? Sam loves him in this moment more than he ever thought was possible, but he’s also terrified for him, every possible worst case what-if echoing endlessly through his brain. 

Gandalf’s face travels from stunned to mournful to proud to resigned in an instant. Sam wants to hate him for it. Wants a protest. Wants someone to save Frodo from that Baggins love for adventure and danger, and from the Ring.

No one does. They let him speak on. Traitors.

_ I will take the Ring to Mordor _ , Frodo says, and Sam lets out a shuddering sigh, preparing himself for the long, horrible journey ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All feedback is greatly appreciated <3  
> Find me on tumblr @witnesstotheend


End file.
